Melody Anne - Baby, It’s Cold Outside

She found a small jewelers’ box inside the wrapping, and the thought that she was about to get a pretty new trinket made her absolutely gleeful. No one in the room could have missed the brilliance of that smile. But when she opened the case and found a magnificent diamond ring inside, she almost dropped it.

Lifting her face, she saw Hawk staring intently at her with a look of love so tender that she was grateful to be sitting cross-legged on the floor already.

“Natalie, I know this has been quick. I know that you’re probably terrified right now, and I know I should have done this more privately so you could tell me to take a flying leap if you wanted. But I love my family and I want them to be a part of this moment, because up until meeting you, I didn’t think there could ever be another person in my life who would make me feel the things you make me feel. Even though it’s only been a month, I know you better than any other person could, and I love that. I feel like what we have together is one hundred times stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before. I never thought anyone could make me as happy as you do. Everything that’s stressful in my life disappears the second I see your smile. I can say with one hundred percent certainty that you are my soul mate. There is a plan for everyone and I know that you are my only future. I will never let you go no matter what your answer is. Please marry me and make me the happiest man alive.”

He didn’t break the connection of their eyes, and though he’d shown her day after day that he wanted to be with her, this was something she would have never expected from him, not because he wasn’t perfect, but because she wasn’t. At least she wasn’t in her own eyes. Natalie didn’t know what to say.

Yes, this had moved quickly, and yes, she should try to think logically, but running over the last month in her head, she knew that she was happiest when with him, whether at the school, or in the gym, or just sitting and playing a board game at his parents’ place. Their love would only grow stronger from this day forward.

This wasn’t a part of her plans. This wasn’t even on the table, but love didn’t care. They had found each other and there was nothing that would change how they felt. Nothing.

“I love you, too, Hawk,” she whispered. And she didn’t even notice that her voice had wobbled. “I love that you care about me, insecurities and all. I love that you see me differently than I see myself, and I love that family is so important to you. I want a family; I’ve just always been afraid to ask for one. I thought I had a plan I needed to follow, but what you’ve taught me is that the best things in life aren’t planned—they’re discovered.”

“Will you marry me, Natalie?”

“Right this minute if I could,” she told him.

Soft sighs echoed through the room as Hawk moved forward, pulled Natalie to her feet, and drew her gently into his arms, where he sealed their promises to each other with a tender kiss. Love had found them this holiday season, and it had taken hold of both of their hearts. And it wasn’t about to let go.

Valentine’s Day

Well, what do we do now?” Eileen asked.

“I don’t know,” Bethel said with a sniffle. “We should be a heck of a lot more happy. That was a wonderful wedding.”

Maggie’s answering smile was accompanied by watery eyes. “Yes, I think Hawk and Natalie are going to make each other very happy.”

“Yes, they will,” Martin said. “They were meant to be.” Even he sounded a bit choked up.

Still, Bethel pouted. “But I’m bored now.”

“Well, Hawk isn’t the only single man in this town,” Eileen said.

Bethel perked up instantly. “That’s very true.”

“My boys are way past their time to find their brides,” Martin reminded them.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Martin,” Maggie replied with a painful level of excitement.

“I just don’t know where to even begin,” Martin said.

“I know. It worked out really well with Natalie, but we don’t need any more schoolteachers,” Eileen said.

The four of them sat at a large table and watched Hawk and Natalie hold each other tight while dancing to Lonestar’s rendition of the song “Amazed.”

“I know that I’ve been more than ready for Jackson to settle down, but that boy avoids commitment like it’s a double-headed snake,” Martin groused.

“What do we do to change his mind?” Bethel asked.

Martin said, “I’m at a loss. I just don’t know . . .”

“Well, he does have that trip to Paris coming up. Any chances of a romance there?” Eileen asked.

“It is the city of love,” Maggie said.

“We need help!” Bethel insisted.

Martin grinned. “Maybe it’s time to call Joseph.”

“That old rascal hasn’t visited in too long,” Eileen said. “What is Joseph Anderson up to these days?”

“I know that he’s managed to create a large family for himself. He’s told me a little about how it all happened, so I know he had his hand involved,” Martin told them.

“Well, then. Let’s give the man a call!” Eileen pulled out her cell phone and punched his number from the contacts list.

“Hello?”

Joseph Anderson’s voice boomed across the line, and the meddling was only just beginning . . .

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart . . .”

Eyeing the crush of cheerfully wasted humanity as they sang along to the soppiest Christmas song ever, Beck Rivera let go of a frustrated sigh. It turned into a growl midway through.

“If one more idiot in a red suit breathes his fumes on me, I’m going holiday nuclear.”

His brother Luke laughed at Beck’s out-of-character dramatics. Normally the least excitable one in the family—except for their oldest, Wyatt, who wouldn’t know drama if it upchucked in his face—Beck was clearly teetering on the brink tonight. Three weeks to Christmas and the annual Santa Shuffle Pub Crawl, a staple of the Chicago holiday scene, had stalled in his bar.

Ho-dee-ho-ho.

“So how is holiday nuclear different from regular nuclear?” Luke asked. He pulled gently on the Guinness tap to complete the shamrock imprint in the stout’s foamy head.

“With holiday nuclear, I’ll go ballistic—with an elfish smile.”

Pint safely delivered to a thirsty customer, Luke laid a strong hand on Beck’s shoulder. “Stay cool, psycho. You’ll be back in bunker gear before you know it.”

Before he knew it couldn’t come soon enough. Put on leave after his recent brush with death and the brass at the Chicago Fire Department, Beck was itching to return to firehouse duty. Sitting around all day making an ass-shaped dent in his sofa was killing him slowly and, but for the fact he was pulling extra shifts at his family’s bar, Dempsey’s on Damen, he’d probably lose his mind. Along with the love of his foster siblings—three guys, one gal—who held no truck with his moodiness over the last month.

At least he was alive, for Christ’s sake. And so was the poor kid he’d managed to haul free before the roof of that South Side crack house caved in Old Testament style. So maybe he’d disobeyed his lieutenant’s orders—Beck’s MO had always been of the act-now-beg-forgiveness-later variety. But where usually the head honchos liked how the heroics looked for the papers, this time it had landed him in deep shit.

Now, with at least another month until his disciplinary hearing—because God forbid anyone at HQ make a decision over the holidays—Beck had plenty of time on his hands to brood and shine up a new rash of apologies.

“Hey, amigo,” Beck heard behind him. One of the red-suited troublemakers, a downtown professional type. With Puerto Rican skin darker than most of the pasty-faced Chicago Irish set who propped up the bar at Dempsey’s, Beck supposed he might look like someone’s amigo, but he sure as hell didn’t appreciate this stranger bandying the word about. Red Suit leaned forward and, in his eagerness for a drink, blindly elbowed a cute blonde out of the way.

So, not looking to get laid, then.

“Careful, now,” Beck said.

“What’s that, amigo?”

F’real, dude? “I said you need to be careful.” Beck enunciated each word, then turned to the blonde. “You okay?”

“Fine, thanks.” She shot a hostile look at Red Suit, who chose that moment to bare his teeth in an approximation of a grin that went thoroughly unreturned. Nice.

Beck directed his attention back to the loser. “What’ll it be?”

“Chivas, neat, twice over.” Red Suit glanced over his shoulder to where his rowdy friends stood, making a lot of noise. A spilled beer on a woman’s dress earlier had been the first hint these guys were trouble. Two more rounds until they were cut off, Beck estimated. “A bottle of Bud and a Goose Island. Whatever the holiday ale crap is.”

“Sure,” Beck said. “How about I add it to your tab and bring it along?” Red Suit blinked his acceptance, adjusted his padding, and loped off.

“Hey, Rivera, how’s life sitting around eating bonbons all day?”

Beck slowed while pouring the Chivas, then rearranged his expression and his bones to neutral for Frank Gilligan, a CPD detective with a mouth as big as his ego. He happened to be a friend, but more often a pain in Beck’s ass.

“Detective, the moment I met you I knew we’d get along.”